yesterday i went to see kung fu hustle. a friend of mine made a point to see it at 10 pm on a saturday night, in union sqare, after a sweet yet slightly boring party up-town. i remember when steven chow was still zhou xingchi, he made me laugh, he made me cry. he showed me how a man could really love a woman yet would always torture her, because he hated himself so much that he could not help hating her. he showed me how a bastard could also be deeply invested in humanism, and he showed me how bullshit would always end up with somehow a fresh flower on top. he also showed me how (and why) a man is always beaten up by everyone (his friends, his lovers, his partners, his enemies, his bosses, his parents, his foster parents, etc...). yet this time, he is already steven show, with beautiful, long torso and deep-set eyes, his stare is sharp yet somewhat blank. he fights in the style of matrix III and against enemies suited in all black jackets. he is so much hotter and stylized. even his most shabby outfits were make in fine linen. his woman, even further removed from humanism, this time she does not even talk. yet she is still the fresh flower, though the illusive one, yeah, so much in love with the bullshit (niufen). but he is still zhou xingchi. only he can think of the shiny reflection of the crazy middle-aged woman wearing hair rolls sealed on the blade (which was pushed into his shoulder by his partner). only he can think of the lotus pot planted onto the back of the landlord's head. and only he can make reference to the old shanghai studio "seventy two tenants" (qishi erjia fangke) so shamelessly and ever so sweetly... after all these years, he is still him. i am glad that he is also becoming steven show, because he well deserves becoming universal. damn, at least, he came to union square.
